


Müllerian Mimic

by obaewankenope (rexthranduil)



Series: Signalling Theory: Blue Coat [9]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: (sort of), BAMF!Newt, Code: Blue Coat, Fucking hell these two tho are DISASTERS UGH, Gellert is a creep. An obsessed creep, Gramander, M/M, Plot, There's actual plot here, WE FINALLY HAVE LIFT OFF ON THE SLOW BURN, also porn, sorta porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-24 17:11:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16644359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rexthranduil/pseuds/obaewankenope
Summary: The immediate aftermath of Grindelwald's escape has the city full of panicking, worried citizens and the aurors are pulling out all the stops to reassure a panicked public. Percy just wants this whole thing to be resolved, Grindelwald caught and for his relationship with Newt Scamander to not be as complicated as it really is. Wishful thinking but at least something may be going right.





	Müllerian Mimic

**Author's Note:**

> Please someone hold me. I didn't expect to write this so soon omg.

The news of Grindelwald's escape hit the afternoon press before Percy could do anything to suppress the information. Whether it was from a leak in his department or somewhere else mattered far less than handling the public outcry of fear and horror at the revelation. His aurors were forced into working overtime, called out on dozens of calls from the public of "Grindelwald sightings" that turned out to be more fear-driven imaginations than actual sightings.

By nine in the evening Percy was ready to sleep for a week but more calls were still coming in and his aurors were dead on their feet. Even the night shift had been called in for the sightings.

"Those who haven't slept in more than nineteen hours, go and get at least five hours rest, now!" he barked, not giving his aurors the chance to argue with him. "Those who are still running on more sleep than me, attend to the calls you can. Forget paperwork for now unless its vital. We need the public to see us acting immediately even if we want to strangle most of them for panicking and making false calls."

He looked around at the aurors assembled before him. "Where's Goldstein?" he asked suddenly.

"Passed out in the break room sir." One of the aurors at the back of the room half-shouted over the din of mumbling aurors. "Been there for about–" the auror checked his watch "–thirty minutes now."

Percy sighed. He'd been hoping Goldstein would be able to help him organise the troops, so to speak.

"Wake her and send her home. If her sister is still here, get her to take her," he told the auror, "Morgana knows Goldstein won't win a fight with her sister," he added in a mumble, mostly to himself.

The aurors nearest to Percy heard him and cracked a smile at his words.

Returning to his office, Percy left the door open so he'd hear if anything useful was reported. The clock on the mantelpiece was tingling faintly, signalling a call that had been going on for a while. Drawing his wand from his sleeve, Percy flicked it and answered the call.

"FINALLY YOU ANSWER ME! I THOUGHT YOU'D GONE AND DISAPPEARED FROM EXISTENCE AGAIN!"

Percy blinked. "That's a little dramatic don't you think Al-Shalad?" he asked dryly. "It's not like I disappeared from existence last time either."

Through the face of the clock on the mantelpiece, Al-Shalad glared at him. "I have been calling you for the last half hour you- you-"

Percy's amusement at Al-Shalad's frustration died away as he realised the Egyptian was genuinely upset.

"I've been responding to suspecting sightings of Grindelwald," he explained, voice softer than it would otherwise be. "I've only just got back to the office and I'll be heading out soon."

Al-Shalad let out a long breath, the tension in the Egyptians frame uncoiling. "You stress me worse than Newt does sometimes," he said, closing his eyes briefly.

Percy didn't outwardly react to the mention of the magizoologist but inside it felt like his heart stopped for a moment.

"Scamander is out with a team of my aurors, trying to trace Grindelwald's movements using some spell he refuses to share," Percy said, the frustration at Newt for not telling his aurors that spell seeping through into his words.

Al-Shalad coughed. "He's tracking him?" he asked, surprise in his voice. At Percy's nod, Al-Shalad shook his head. "It's not a spell he's using," he said heavily.

"He said it was," Percy countered, brow furrowing. Had Newt lied to him? Why? Percy pushed back the instinctive hurt that he felt at the possibility of Newt lying to him, focusing instead on Al-Shalad and what the Egyptian was willing to tell him.

"It's a rare gift," the Egyptian explained, "one that few wizards I know are able to use as well as Scamander. It takes a lot of control and practice; most start learning from a young age." Al-Shalad gave Percy a heavy look that was tinged with some measure of wonder. "That kid showed up, didn't even realise he could do it, and one of the local priests nearly lost their mind when they tested him."

"Tested him? For what?" Percy demanded. "You're not making sense, Al-Shalad."

The Egyptian shook his head. "As far as I understand it," he said, giving Percy a look. "It's a magical sensitivity combined with the skill to actively cast out one's magical core to feel the space around you on a level that not even the best detection spells can manage."

Percy blinked. "I do that, it's not difficult," he said after a long moment. "Wandless magic."

Al-Shalad made a surprised sound. "You can?" he asked, brows raising when Percy nodded. "Hmm… You and Scamander would be devastating in a duel together then, I imagine."

Percy thought back to the ambush at the warehouse only a few weeks ago. Al-Shalad made a fair assessment without having seen them in action.

It was a little disconcerting.

"What Scamander can do however, goes further than that," Al-Shalad continued suddenly, jarring Percy from his thoughts. "Casting out and feeling your environment is something most wizards can learn to do, but maintaining it requires a powerful core and a lot of self-control. You would know that better than I, yes?"

Percy nodded but didn't speak.

Al-Shalad continued with his explanation. "The priests at the temple tried to encourage him to use his ability but, as far as I know, it was… a little explosive and Scamander swore off using it no matter how much the priests pressed."

"How do you even know this?" Percy asked suddenly, confused and concerned for Scamander and those around him.

Al-Shalad shrugged. "He was a foreign wizard with an ability the priests hadn't thought was possible for non-Egyptians to possess. They had to report to me as I'm head of the districts security force, and Scamander told me more when I asked him about it."

"Is he at risk now? A danger to others when he's using this ability?" Percy asked, hating that he had to but, with Newt, he couldn't ignore the risks just because of his personal feelings.

Al-Shalad scratched his chin in thought. "I don't think so," he said eventually, "Scamander is many things, but he doesn't put others at risk unnecessarily. He has the control necessary for his ability, but it's more a matter of him being willing to use it and the fear he has of hurting others."

Al-Shalad sighed. "Percival," he said, looking Percy in the eye with eyes that held a weight to them that pinned Percy to the spot. "Scamander won't put others at risk, but he will put _himself_ at risk. The priest I spoke to told me that the greatest harm done was to Scamander himself during those… Outbursts."

"He has a lot of power, more than most wizards from the West," Al-Shalad continued thoughtfully. "I don't know how – or why – if it’s from his family, or if it's just him, but Scamander is a wizard who can do a lot of damage but _chooses_ not to." Al-Shalad gave Percy a meaningful look. “Do you understand Percival, my friend?”

Percy thought back to the memory he’d observed, of Grindelwald and Newt talking.

He understood.

“I do,” he said, glancing down and away for a moment before he looked back at Al-Shalad. “Do you feel it is wise to have him out in the field? He’s not an auror and hasn’t the training or qualifications–” Percy didn’t think about the blacked out sections of Newt’s Ministry file, he _didn’t_ “–and he is, for all intents and purposes, a civilian acting as a consultant on cases with dangerous creatures involved.”

Al-Shalad tilted his head. “Some would argue that Grindelwald is the most dangerous creature of all, more beast than wizard considering the things he’s done and wants to do,” he pointed out quietly.

“He’s still a man,” Percy replied, “and men can be killed. Even if their ideas sometimes cannot,” he added in an undertone.

“You’re not going to take him off this case, Percival.” Al-Shalad’s voice brokered no doubt. “You can’t afford to.”

Percy groaned, finally succumbing to the desire to sit as he flopped down gracelessly into the nearest chair. Al-Shalad could still see him thanks to the magic of the clock piece, but the angle shifted for Percy as he had to crane his neck slightly to still see the face of the clock.

“I know,” he sighed. “I’d prefer to not have him involved in the case at all, for a number of reasons, but his ability is proving useful so far.” Percy let his head fall back against the top of the chair, uncaring of how it messed up his less-than-neat hair.

Al-Shalad was silent for a long moment before he spoke, voice more business-like than it had been prior. “I will alert my aurors on Grindelwald’s escape,” he said and Percy lifted his head to look at the clock-face. “He may not have left America and if he has, he has probably gone to Europe, but it is wise to alert the other departments.”

Percy snorted derisively. “There’s been a message sent out to the European Ministries and only the European Ministries as far as I know.” He shook his head. “Back channels?”

Al-Shalad nodded. “Back channels.”

Percy sat forward in his chair, still looking at the clock-face even as he slowly rose to his feet again. “I trust you’ll do that for me,” he said, nodding when Al-Shalad inclined his head, “thank you. That’ll at least give me some breathing room with this mess.”

“Find him, Percival,” Al-Shalad said, voice low. “He needs to be found before he causes a war we can ill afford. _All_ of us.”

 

* * *

 

“How long until the British aurors arrive?” Newt asked one of the aurors he was walking with, wand out with the tip glowing in a steady blue hue.

The auror shrugged. “Not sure,” he answered in a heavy Brooklyn accent. “Word’s been sent out about the bastard’s escape but it might take another day before we get any other aurors showing up to help out.”

Newt sighed. “Fantastic.”

The auror laughed. “I know the feeling,” he gave Newt an amused if tired smile. “Thirty-six hour stakeout in the middle of winter with no warming charms allowed.”

Newt looked at the auror. “That… sounds…” he trailed off, something catching his attention on the edge of his magical awareness.

“Mean as fuck but entirely necessary to catch the scumbags attacking no-maj women,” the auror finished darkly, shaking his head. “No idea what drives ‘em to do that sorta thing but I got to knock the shit outta them at least.”

“I have something,” Newt said, barely listened to the auror. “I don’t know what but I have _something_.”

“You sure?” The auror asked, tapping the fog-watch he withdrew from his inner coat pocket with his wand. It let out a quiet hiss before opening, revealing a swirling display.

Newt nodded. “Very sure.”

“Show me Auror Graves,” the auror said, looking down at the face of the watch, waiting for it to react to his words.

It took a long moment but Graves’s face swirled into existence in the centre of the watch.

“What is it, Abraham?” His voice was tinny but Newt could still pick up the intense feeling behind the words as the Percy looked at his auror through the watch.

“Scamander has something, sir,” Abraham said immediately, not wasting any time. “Not sure what, though, we can’t get any closer I don’t think.”

Newt nodded. “Any closer and I think we may trip an alarm,” he cut in, crowding against the auror to stare down at Percy’s face in the watch. The look Percy gave him was measured and sharp, cataloguing him for damaging. Newt repressed the urge to roll his eyes.

“Wait for backup, I’ll be there myself in one minute,” Percy ordered and both Newt and the auror nodded. “Do not do anything stupid, Scamander,” he added pointedly.

‘ _Honestly, does he think I go out of my way to find trouble?’_ Newt thought, nodding at Abraham who returned the gesture.

“Yes sir,” Abraham said just as the other auror who’d spoken cut in with a: “want me to tie him up until you get here, boss?”

Newt looked at the ground and scowled.

“No Smithy,” Percy replied, voice and face fading out as the connection died out. “Two minutes.”

Abraham slipped the fog-watch back into his pocket and gave the two other aurors present a sharp look. “Smithy, set up an alert charm; Gonzalez, go and scope out the place but _please_ , don’t get caught.”

The aurors both nodded, Smithy immediately drawing his wand and beginning to cast the alert charm. Gonzalez lingered for a moment, throwing Newt an inscrutable look that the magizoologist saw out of the corner of his eye, before slipping quietly away towards the building Newt had led them to.

Newt twisted his wand, the tip no longer glowing, as he waited for their ‘backup’ to arrive.

Suddenly Abraham spoke. “Why would Grindelwald set up in the middle of Red Hook?”

Newt looked up at the auror, brows raised. “Why wouldn’t he?” he asked, frowning.

Abraham stared at him. “You’re kidding right?” he exclaimed, snorting in surprise when Newt shook his head. “Even now, Red Hook is one of the busiest parts of Brooklyn for wizards and no-maj, what with the canal an’ all,” he explained, shaking his head. “I don’t get why he’d set up here; we’re called to this part more often than other parts of the whole of Brooklyn most of the time.”

Newt frowned. That… “that doesn’t make sense, no,” he agreed quietly. Most of the criminals that Newt had come across over the years all tended towards hide-outs that were somewhat removed from the main thoroughfare, preferring the solitude and isolation. Yes, magic enabled them to hide their activities from muggles and other wizards, but sometimes things went wrong, and sometimes someone would come along who’d know something was amiss just by chance.

Newt was very good at knowing when something was amiss.

Before he could speak to Abraham’s further, the sound of a dozen aurors apparating in distracted them from their conversation. Newt and Abraham both raised their wands at the first _crack_ , lowering them only slightly when they realised it was Percy and the rest of their backup arriving.

“Report.” Percy’s voice was quiet but hard as granite in the silent tension that had been steadily building as Newt and Abraham waited for backup to arrive. He stared at Abraham expectantly.

“Smithy’s set up alert charms,” Abraham immediately said. “Gonzalez is scouting ahead, should probably be on his way back now.”

Percy’s focus shifted from Abraham to something over his shoulder and Newt turned to look.

Gonzalez stepped out of shadow of one of the buildings, giving Percy and the other assembled aurors a slight nod.

“Five inside, ground-floor only. They seem like they’re expecting someone,” Gonzalez reported in a quiet, soft voice. “Two at ten o’clock, one at three o’clock and the last two closest to the south-west side at seven o’clock.”

Percy looked at the aurors he’d brought with him and gave them a sharp nod. “In positions.”

They immediately began to move and Newt instinctively sought out Percy, standing beside the Head Auror as all the others paired up and headed to various positions around the building.

“I’d prefer it if you stayed back,” Percy said quietly, inclining his head towards Newt so he could pitch his words for only Newt to hear. “If Grindelwald is who they’re waiting for, it could get dangerous: fast.”

Newt tilted his head and side-eyed Percy, frowning. “I don’t want to be a danger to your aurors, but even if Gellert isn’t in there, I’m still in danger considering my connection to him,” he pointed out, voice just as quiet as Percy’s, although there was steel in it that added weight to the magizoologist’s words. “I might not be an auror, Percival, but I’m more than capable of handling myself.”

Percy shook his head. “It’s not about how capable you are,” he said forcefully. “I am concerned about your safety even though I know you are capable of defending yourself more expertly than most of my aurors,” he admitted, looking away from Newt.

In the silence between them, only the span of a few heartbeats, Newt came to a rapid decision. One he may have cause to regret one day, but didn’t he care about the consequences as he stared at the wizard he’d come to recognise he cared for _greatly_.

‘ _Compromise and commitment are sometimes the same thing,’_ he thought even as he reached out with the hand not holding his wand and touched Percy’s gloved fingers. Their coats obscured the act but the way Percy tensed revealed to anyone watching that something was happening between them.

“Then I’ll stick by your side and if my safety comes into question, you can protect me,” Newt murmured, turning slightly to angle his body towards Percy.

Percy turned his head back towards Newt and raised his gaze from the ground to stare at the magizoologist’s face. “I shall hold you to that, Mister Scamander,” he eventually said, voice dipped in wry amusement that made Newt’s lips curve into an amused half-smile.

The fingers Newt lightly encased in his hand shifted, twining their way through his own fingers until their hands were interwoven in an act of intimate affection.

But the moment slipped away at the sound of Abraham making his way back toward them. Newt let his hand fall away from Percy’s, ignoring the pang of regret that he had to let go, and focused on the situation.

They’d have time for affection later.

Hopefully.

“We’re ready sir.” Abraham looked back at the building they were about to raid. “Gonzalez has gone high in the next building,” he explained, jerking his head towards the building in question. “Said he wants to be able to watch out for any who go for the roof.”

Percy nodded. “Good, lets go.”

Newt and Percy moved together, Abraham falling in behind them as they charged at the south-western entrance into the building. At the same time that they slammed into the doors, Abraham shot off a non-verbal spell, four glittering spots shooting out of his wand and darting off around the building to alert the other auror teams.

Newt immediately threw up a shield as the nearest possible Grindelwald supporter started and threw a curse at them. Percy followed up with a spell that slammed into the supporter and threw them off their feet.

Abraham darted out from behind Newt and shot off a hex at the other supporter who cast his own shield.

The first supporter scrambled back to his feet, flinging a flurry of hexes and curses at Percy as the auror advanced towards him. Newt gave Abraham a look before dropping the shield charm and running forward.

Abraham followed, flinging a hex at the supporter’s shield to keep him occupied as Newt rapidly advanced.

Just as he reached the shield charm, Newt aimed his wand at it even as he continued to run full-pelt toward it. “Téigh tríd an veil.”

The shield shimmered.

Newt passed through it.

The surprised expression on the supporter turned into one of pain as Newt bodily slammed into him, forcing them both to the floor. Without pausing for breath, Newt brought his right arm up and pressed his forearm against the supporter’s throat, putting pressure on it. His other hand grabbed the supporter’s wand arm at the wrist, preventing them from casting.

They struggled against Newt, their free arm grabbing at the arm Newt had against their throat, but the longer Newt limited their air the weaker those struggles became until, after less than a minute, the supporter’s eyes closed and their body went lax.

Immediately Newt withdrew his arm against their throat, casting a binding charm and then a quick assessment of their vitals.

Abraham came to a skidded halt behind Newt and stared down at the magizoologist. “Did you knock him out the no-maj way?” he asked, surprised.

Newt spared him a glance over his shoulder, more focused on the results of the assessment spell. “Few wizards expect bodily contact in duels,” he replied absently, “they tend to panic and forget to cast long enough for their upper hand to be lost.”

“Hence why physical combat techniques are now included in auror training,” Percy added from behind Abraham who startled visibly. Percy gave the younger auror an unimpressed look and Abraham looked away, scratching his neck. “All supporters have been captured with no casualties thus far, will that remain the case?” he asked, looking down at Newt.

Newt nodded, climbing to his feet to face Percy. “Minor bruising to his trachea, nothing needing treatment beyond basic healing,” he explained, looking at Percy’s face. “I don’t imagine he’ll enjoy talking until he’s treated but it ah- it could be used as a bargaining chip considering the discomfort he’ll be in,” he added biting his lip to hide his slight smirk.

Abraham stared at him.

Percy didn’t even blink.

“There doesn’t seem to be much here,” he said, turning away from the prone supporter, and Newt fell into step beside him leaving Abraham with the supporter. “Several cases with clothing, standard healing potions, a broom and a cauldron.”

Newt frowned. “That sounds like-” he began before trailing off.

Percy nodded. “A travelling kit, I know.”

“Grindelwald’s?”

Percy grimaced. “I sincerely hope not.”

 

* * *

 

Seraphina stared at the magically-created forms of her magical counterparts across the northern-hemisphere. Hector Fawley, the British Minister of Magic seemed intent on focusing on Seraphina’s failure to contain “one measly criminal”.

Seraphina had half a mind to visit England just to hex him but that would cause an international incident; unfortunately.

“The threat of Gellert Grindelwald to the entirety of the magical world is not in question, Minister,” Seraphina said with a measured voice. “It is more important to capture him if he flees the United States to any of countries.”

Madame Berger raised an eyebrow. “Do you think that is possible?” she asked, the translation spell working flawlessly. “The United States of America is far larger than our countries and MACUSA’s influence weakens beyond the cities. Would he not take advantage of that fact and remain in America?”

Seraphina inclined her head. “Possibly,” she allowed, “however, the possibility remains that he may leave America entirely, in which case your respective auror departments would be charged with hunting him.”

“A significant challenge to any department, but if he jumps between countries...” Francesco Ricci continued, stroking his goatee, frowning.

“That would make any hunt for him international,” finished the German Minister, Klaus Richter.

“We haven’t had international hunts for criminals in over a hundred years!” Hector Fawley exclaimed, eyebrows raised. “Some criminals may be a challenge for our aurors, I admit, but we hardly need to consider an international hunt for _one_ wizard.”

Seraphina’s eyes narrowed. “One wizard who successfully infiltrated my government past the point of question even though we have dozens of safeguards against false-impersonation,” she said sharply, not snapping even though she wished to. “Polyjuice and impersonation spells are automatically dispelled in the Woolworth building and yet Grindelwald successfully maintained his own for _over a year_.”

She stepped forward, knowing her own image would grow larger for her counterparts. “That _single_ _criminal_ maintained a position of power in my government without revealing his presence until a chance encounter with a magizoologist and the efforts of two of my employees who showed exceptional dedication to their oaths.”

Her voice dropped to a soft purr. “An international hunt for _that_ particular criminal seems unnecessary, Minister?”

“Well I- it is- I-” Fawley stammered, eyes darting to the side.

“Whether it is necessary or not is unimportant,” Ricci cut in, saving Fawley from further embarrassing himself. “Grindelwald is a threat of the sort that calls others to him with false flattery and lies dipped in honey.”

Berger nodded. “Indeed, he knows how to attract support,” she said, giving Seraphina a knowing look. “He may be one man, but I have seen lonely men attract power and prestige only to do terrible things with the support of the common people.”

“He is no king,” Richter countered, frowning. “He has no right to rule.”

Seraphina raised an eyebrow at Richter. “Perhaps he ought to be told that?”

“Or taught it,” Ricci added.

They all fell silent for a moment before Madame Berger spoke again.

“I would rather we not have to do this at all,” she began, looking at her fellow leaders. “Yet we must, for the sake of those we represent. It has been one-hundred-and-thrity-seven years since an international confederation hunt has been commenced.” She sighed. “I had been hoping to see one-hundred-and-fifty.”

Ricci snorted. “You will outlive us all I am sure,” he said, giving his French counterpart a smile. “I think you shall see one-hundred-and-fifty years for certain.”

Seraphina nodded. “Then we should begin with the selection process for those we think best suited to this hunt,” she said, her voice all-business, the ire she felt towards Fawley no longer present. “Perhaps three from each of us?”

Berger shook her head. “Two each,” she disagreed. “It will be easier to select two than three.”

Seraphina wished to ask why, but there was a glint in Berger’s gaze that spoke of something behind her words that belied explanation. The hair on her arms stood on end and Seraphina’s back straightened further at the sensation.

Two it was.

Fawley shook his head. “I think this is still unnecessary,” he began, not looking at any of them, “but I suppose two aurors apiece is a reasonable request since I cannot allow Briton to not be represented in the international hunts.”

Seraphina bit back a retort. Fawley, she knew, cared more for his image than for the responsibilities of his office. He was a poor Minister for Magic for Britain, yet he was better than some of his predecessors.

It didn’t bode well for who he would select for the hunt. Flashy. Showy. Inept.

Seraphina had to prevent the British mentality to automatically lead anything if she was to hope for Grindelwald’s capture.

‘ _Who would be best suited to eradicating any dissent in such a mixed group?’_ she thought as the magical representations of her European counterparts faded away. Her lips quirked up in a sharp smile. ‘ _Oh, I know just the person.’_

 

* * *

 

“Did we get anything useful from those supporters?” Percy asked Tina as she entered his office.

She looked surprised to see Newt sat in the armchair near the fireplace but Percy’s question drew her attention and focus.

“Not as much as I’d hoped,” she replied, frowning. In her hand she held a file that she handed to Percy. “Most of it is standard stuff about their background,” she explained as Percy opened the file and flipped through the pages. “Queenie came down and read them without them realising and she got more than we did with just our questions.”

Percy looked up at her. “You asked your sister to read the minds of Grindelwald supporters and suspected criminals?” He asked, a sliver of surprise in his voice.

Tina nodded. “She volunteered and, well, we weren’t getting no where with them fast, so I thought...” she trailed off awkwardly.

Percy stared at her, impressed when she didn’t look away even though he knew she wished to. She reminded him a lot of Newt sometimes.

“Good work, Goldstein,” he said suddenly, breaking eye contact and looking back down at the file. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the way she started in surprise at the lack of negative commentary from him. “You and your sister are not to be underestimated in the slightest.”

Tina blinked. “Thank you sir.”

The door opened again and the three of them all turned to look at it. Tina snapped to attention, almost stumbling over her own feet as she stepped to the side to allow Madam President Picquery to enter the office.

Newt straightened in the armchair. Percy just raised an eyebrow.

“Madam President,” he intoned, inclining his head slightly.

“Head Auror Graves,” Picquery responded, before turning to look at Tina. “Auror Goldstein.”

Tina hid her surprise well at being addressed by the President of MACUSA but Percy saw the way her back twitched. Her face, however, revealed none of her immense shock. “Madam President,” she said, bowing her head at Picquery.

“You are to be commended for your work ethic, Auror Goldstein,” Picquery said, a slight smile on her otherwise impassive face.

“Thank you ma’am,” Tina replied, finally betraying her surprise with raised eyebrows.

Percy decided to save Tina from any further discomfort with Picquery’s attention on her.

“Is there a reason to your visit, Madam President?” He asked, drawing Picquery’s focus away from his auror who he saw let out a silent breath of relief. He suppressed a laugh.

“There is, Head Auror Graves,” Picquery answered, stepping forward to stand directly in front of his desk to stare at him. “A matter that requires your input.”

Picquery’s tone of voice was similar to the tone she used when she wished to speak to Percy in private, either for personal reasons or important political ones. He had a feeling, this time, it was a mixture of both.

“Goldstein,” he said, drawing Tina’s attention and she looked at him expectantly. “You and your sister have done exceptional work today, finish up for the evening and get home. You’ll be in charge of roll first thing in the morning tomorrow.”

Tina nodded, eyes sparking with delight at Percy’s instructions. He knew she enjoyed the responsibility he placed upon her, but she also enjoyed spending time with her sister. So he decided to give her both and solve the problem of privacy at the same time.

“Yes sir, goodnight sir,” she said, happiness in her voice that was well-hidden but still audible. “Madam President,” she added, nodding her head at Picquery who gave her a regal nod in return. “Newt, are you coming?”

Newt shifted in the armchair. “I uh-” he began only for Picquery to cut him off.

“I’m afraid I need to speak to Mister Scamander also, Auror Goldstein,” she said smoothly, her gaze sharp and Tina wisely didn’t argue.

“Of course,” Tina said, slightly disappointed. “Goodnight Newt,” she added, giving her friend a smile and a wave that he returned before leaving the office, the door snapping shut behind her.

Percy waited for a moment, ears straining to listen to the sound of Tina’s heels clicking away on the tiled floor until they faded away. Then he spoke.

“So what is so important that my aurors can’t hear it but Newt and I can?” he demanded, not at all concerned with the sharp look Seraphina threw at him.

He knew she didn’t miss the fact that he used Scamander’s first name. Or that he did it intentionally.

She raised a slender eyebrow. “An International Hunt.”

“What?” Newt sat up in the armchair, looking at Seraphina with a surprised expression. “Thee says there hasn’t been one of those in over a hundred years.”

Seraphina nodded. “Indeed,” she said, looking at Newt and Percy, “but several of my European counterparts have agreed that it is necessary in regards to Grindelwald.”

Percy sat back in his chair, giving Seraphina a contemplative look. “You want me to suggest aurors to join the hunt?” he guessed, pursing his lips.

Seraphina shook her head. “Actually no,” she said, “I’d rather you join it.”

Percy blinked. “Excuse me?”

Seraphina drew back the single chair facing Percy’s desk and sat down gracefully. “The British Minister isn’t taking Grindelwald seriously–” Newt snorted and Seraphina looked at him “–as such, I expect he shall suggest aurors who are more focused on asserting the dominance of the British Ministry than hunting Grindelwald and cooperating with other magical law enforcement groups.”

“Fawley is singularly useless,” Newt muttered.

“A fair assessment of the man,” Seraphina agreed.

“So you want me to, what? Take charge of the Hunt to prevent whatever idiots Fawley assigns from ruining the thing before it even gets off the ground?” Percy drawled, grimacing. “Seraphina I do not want to _babysit_ over-inflated egos.”

“Then you should never have pushed for becoming Head Auror,” Seraphina shot back, smirking. “Politics is all about pandering to over-inflated egos and benefiting from it.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Percy saw Newt duck his head, a smile on his face that he partially hid with his hair.

Damn but Percy hated it when Seraphina made good points. They always inevitably insulted him at the same time.

“They won’t listen to me,” he tried, frowning. “I’m the man who Grindelwald impersonated for a year, no one in their right mind would think me qualified to lead the Hunt for him.”

Seraphina opened her mouth to counter only for Newt to get there first.

“On the contrary,” Newt said quietly, drawing their combined attention. “The fact that Gellert bested you won’t be what they focus on, not when so many aurors in Europe have dealt with his supporters and him on occasion. They’ll focus on the fact that you didn’t _die_. That alone will win you respect. And if Thee volunteers himself for the Hunt, you’ll have him backing you up.”

Newt paused. “And myself.”

Both Seraphina and Percy blinked in surprise.

“You?” Percy repeated, surprised.

“I do not believe you are an auror, Mister Scamander,” Seraphina said, coolly.

“Precisely why I _should_ be part of the Hunt,” Newt replied, staring directly at Seraphina. Percy found the fact that Newt didn’t look away from her, stared her directly in the eye and held her gaze, to be both incredibly surprising and unsurprising.

And a little hot.

Seraphina frowned. “Explain,” she demanded.

Newt glanced at Percy, holding his gaze for a moment before he answered. “The British Ministry may not send Theseus but he’ll joint the Hunt anyway – even if he has to play on his ‘war hero’ image to do so. His participation in the Hunt will present an element of unpredictability to hunting Gellert and his supporters, but it won’t be enough.” He glanced again at Percy, this time apologetically. “Gellert knows how aurors operate, its why he was able to impersonate one for so long. So that means he’ll know how a Hunt will operate with only aurors running it.”

Percy inclined his head. “He has a point, Seraphina,” he pointed out quietly, angry at the truth of it but not at Newt for pointing it out to them. “The Hunts are run by aurors, have been for centuries now. Grindelwald–” he swallowed thickly “–Grindelwald knows how we operate so well that he suggested _improvements_ to our training regimes for trainee aurors. As much as I may not like it, having civilians in the Hunt may be the edge we need to catch him.”

“I’m not a civilian,” Newt said, giving Percy a look. “I just never wished to be an auror like my brother.”

Seraphina looked at him. “But you have received the same training as your brother?” she enquired, making a leap of logic in less than a minute that Percy had spent months contemplating.

Newt shifted in his chair, finally looking away from both of them. “Everyone who participated in the Great War received training,” he admitted awkwardly. “My time in the Dragon Corps… required a variety of training that even Thee doesn’t know about.” He looked up at them both. “I’d appreciate it if you don’t mention that to him, there are still some Ministry employees he would hunt down and possibly murder if he finds out.”

Percy had a dark feeling that he knew what some of the _additional_ training Newt was talking about. He glanced at Seraphina, recognising that she, too, had the same idea about it as him.

“Besides your training,” Seraphina said, breezing over the revelation in a way that had Newt visibly relaxing. “Are there any other reasons why I should include your in the Hunt? Or is that all there is?”

Percy recognising the calculating expression on Seraphina’s face. This information Newt had revealed about himself was new and possibly beneficial to Seraphina. It was also, just as possibly not beneficial to her.

He could see that she was testing the waters to determine whether Newt was a worthwhile risk for the Hunt – and possibly further employment by MACUSA.

Percy wasn’t all too certain if he enjoyed the idea of having to decide which of them to support should Seraphina feel Newt’s employment as a consultant was too risky.

“I have plenty of contacts around the world,” Newt explained, looking back at them again. “Some of them are- uh- less than legal depending on the country and laws involved–” he rubbed the back of his neck “–but they usually always provide me with useful information when I need them too.”

“You also have quite a lot of aurors from various magical communities who respect you,” Percy cut in, unsurprised when Newt looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Yes, really. Al-Shalad checks in with me regularly about you.”

Newt blushed, rubbing his neck more. “I’m surprised and yet I feel I shouldn’t be,” he murmured, smiling slightly.

“He has a lot of respect for people who hit him hard enough to make him eat sand,” Percy joked.

“You _assaulted_ Mosad Al-Shalad?” Seraphina stared at Newt in honest surprise. “I am surprised you’re still alive Mister Scamander.”

Newt ducked his head. “It was extenuating circumstances,” he muttered weakly.

Percy gave him a sharp look. “I’d hope near-death experiences count as ‘extenuating circumstances’ to you,” he said pointedly. “Though considering your past escapades, perhaps not.”

Seraphina looked at him.

“I believe I shall take my leave before I become embroiled in this _domestic_ ,” she said airily. “I have two recommendations to write before _I_ can take my leave to my own domestic situation.”

Both Newt and Percy looked at her with identical expressions of surprised guilt. She smiled at them.

“Good night Percival, Mister Scamander,” she said, rising to her feet and walking over to the office door. “I shall require you both in my office at nine sharp tomorrow, gentlemen,” she added, before leaving the office, the door shutting with a soft click behind her.

A quiet hush fell in the office with Seraphina’s exit.

Percy glanced at Newt out of the corner of his eye. Without speaking, he stood from behind his desk and moved over to stand in front of the armchair Newt sat in.

Newt’s head tipped back as Percy reached out to touch those golden-brown tousled locks.

“Hunting Grindelwald will be a dangerous affair,” he murmured, placing his other hand on the arm of the armchair. He leaned down, knee coming up to rest on seat of the armchair between Newt’s legs.

“No more dangerous than most things I find myself doing,” Newt responded, voice quiet and slightly raspy. He stared up into Percy’s eyes. “At least I’d have back-up this time.” The hand on the armchair near to Percy’s own reached out and gripped his wrist lightly.

“That’s true,” Percy conceded, leaning down further until mere centimetres separated their faces. Newt’s eyes were blown wide, the blue of his pupils swallowed up by black lust.

Percy’s lips twitched.

“You seem a little distracted, _Mister_ _Scamander,_ ” he breathed, tilting his head to whisper into Newt’s ear.

Newt’s breathing hitched, Percy heard and felt it as Newt’s hot breath slid across Percy’s neck and shoulder.

“Not- not distracted enough,” Newt countered, his other hand reaching up to cup Percy’s jaw, long fingers – trembling ever so slightly – splaying across the back of Percy’s neck; thin, burning slivers of desire that urged Percy on.

He dropped his head down, closing the distance between them, and pressed his lips against Newt’s own. The hands holding him – his wrist and neck – tightened, became firmer and more intense points of pressure that had Percy arching his body inwards.

Warm bodies, clothed in layers, pressed close as they both sought each other. The hand on Percy’s neck slid up into his hair, messing up his neat hairstyle to grasp at the strands of salt-and-pepper grey. The other on his wrist shifted, moved along his arm to slide behind him and press into the middle of his back; a hot brand able to be felt through the layers of cloth he wore.

Their chaste kiss ended, lips opening, and Percy pressed the advantage of his position to take over, deepening it, as he pressed his knee against Newt’s crotch. The moan that elicited was swallowed by Percy even as he used the hand he’d been using to support himself to slide behind Newt’s back and pull him closer.

“This uh- this should- we should stop-” Newt gasped when the kiss finally broke, the need for air too much to ignore.

Percy closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against Newt’s and breathed heavily. “Right,” he panted, “you’re- yes.”

He leant back, hands slipping from Newt’s body with a reluctance that was mirrored with the way Newt’s hands left Percy’s own body.

“This needs to be- we need to talk first,” Percy said after a long moment, shifting back further to get his feet back under him. He’d ended up all-but lying on top of Newt in the armchair.

Morgana but that was embarrassing.

Percy didn't scramble back but he did move quickly, putting distance between himself and Newt by making excellent use of the size of his office. Then he busied himself with pouring them both a finger of the scotch he kept in a drawer of his bookshelves in the office for especially bad days.

Before the whole Grindelwald affair, it had been whiskey, but Percy hadn't been able to stomach the idea that he and the Dark Wizard had similar tastes in alcohol, thus he'd turned to scotch and single rather than blended malt whiskeys.

He turned around after pouring them both a drink, and held out one of the tumblers to Newt who nodded his thanks before Percy sent the glass over to him with non-verbal, wandless magic.

“Thank you,” Newt murmured, dipping his head, fringe falling in front of his eyes and obscuring Percy's sight of his face.

After a long moment of staring at the tumbler in his hand – the grip on it tight enough that Percy saw Newt's knuckles turn white – Newt spoke.

“You said we need to talk?” He enquired, clearing his throat after in a show of discomfort. Percy empathised with it; he felt uncomfortable himself, discussing this so openly.

But after what had happened with Grindelwald… Percy well understood that he needed to be clear about things, especially when his Seraphina-mandated mind healer was dead-set on making sure he didn't make emotional decisions to avoid the reality of his trauma.

Also, his last relationship had died a spectacular death because he hadn't been as communicative as his partner had wished so… Percy figured he might as well try and communicate from the start and see how that turned out.

Hopefully well.

“What- what are-” Percy coughed, internally lamenting at his sudden inability to communicate. ‘ _Morgana, but this is fantastic. Not._ ’

“What are we?” Newt surmised and Percy looked at him. There was a slight half-smile on Scamander’s face.

It suited him.

“Yes.” Percy nodded. “Before this–” he waved a hand between them “–goes any further, I- I think it would be wise to discuss the nature of _this_.”

Newt ducked his head. “I think I found you attractive even when it wasn't… when Gellert–” Newt shook his head “–his personality wasn't appealing but at least he wore a handsome disguise,” he finished, a sliver of wry amusement in his voice that Percy picked up on.

“So… This…” Percy began before trailing off. He shook his head, a hand running through his hair and messing it up further. “This isn't because of Grindelwald, is it? Because, if it is–”

Newt shot up from his seat, eyes wide as he stared at Percy. “Merlin no!” He exclaimed, shaking his head emphatically. “Not at all! I'm not- I'm not- this isn't some sort of- of- trick! Or- or- a farce! I'm not attracted to you because of Grindelwald!”

Newt closed the distance between them, coming to stand in front of Percy and stared earnestly at him. They were near enough the same height making them equally able to maintain eye contact at such close proximity.

“I'm attracted to you,” Newt said, “I uh… I actually- it may not _just_ be attraction actually,” he admitted, voice soft. “I'm not really all that experienced with this, with these feelings for other people. I- I keep myself to myself except with my creatures so- so when I realised that- that the thoughts I've had about you, the things I feel when I think about you or see you… they're not- I haven't- this is-”

“Unexpected,” Percy finished, staring at Newt with open surprise on his face. The same surprise was reflected by Newt as the magizoologist nodded.

Percy reached out and gently grasped Newt's hand, bringing it up between them until he could press hips lips to Newt's knuckles.

“I've never been one for engaging in romances, never much cared for anyone enough to do so,” Percy began, voice a quiet murmur as he pressed gentle kisses to those knuckles in between words. “After Grindelwald,” he paused, a flash of disgust crossing his features, “I hid away from my feelings by focusing on work but the trial… It changed a lot for me. I had expected you to be like Theseus, someone imposing and untouchable and instead you were-”

“A human disaster?” Newt quipped, and Percy huffed out an amused breath.

“Well, yes,” he agreed, before continuing more seriously. “But you were bright and flamboyant but contradictory with how quiet and shy you were. The way you could duel but also hide in a room full of people through body language alone. It fascinated me and I didn't understand how much or why until… Until that lunch we had.”

Percy shook his head.

“And even then, you were kind and polite and yet so sharp and alert and your behaviour changed depending on who you were talking to, like you kept yourself hidden when I didn't realise that you showed everyone who you were from the start!”

The expression on Newt's face drove Percy on, the open amazement and something else that sparked like love.

“You show the world your fear for creatures, not of them; never of them, but _for_ them. You don't hesitate to do whatever is necessary to do the right thing, you're not afraid of the consequences for yourself but always for others,” Percy said, feeling like he was babbling insanely but the way Newt stared at him, mouth slightly open, eyes wide, and the grip the magizoologist had on Percy's hand kept him going.

“I've seen you perform amazing magic with only seconds to prepare, apparate at a speed I've never seen outside of Olympic record holders, and I saw you buried–” Percy's breathing hitched  “–beneath a pile of rubble, injured, and you still tried to protect a creature that had been wronged by people,” Percy's voice dropped to a whisper.

“Throughout it all, I've cared about you in ways that are certainly unprofessional,” Percy admitted, pressing a kiss to Newt's knuckles. “And I just hope you feel the same.”

‘ _Please feel the same.’_

Newt's lips quirked.

Percy held his breath.

There was a great deal of fondness in those blue eyes as the magizoologist stared at Percy. Then, suddenly, he moved.

Percy stiffened at the feel of Newt's lips gently pressed against his own in a chaste kiss; like a soft caress that left his core trembling.

“I love you too,” Newt whispered, lips brushing against Percy's as he spoke. “I don't quite know when I fell in love with you but I know that I do and that there is nothing that will stop me from being by your side unless you wish otherwise.”

Newt ducked his head, breaking eye contact and rested his forehead on Percy's right shoulder. His breath was hot on Percy's shirt, translating through the material onto his skin like a branding mark.

“It took me some time to separate the man I thought you were from the real you; the one that wasn't Gellert’s parody of you,” Newt breathed, bringing his other hand up to rest on Percy's chest. Percy's free hand slid automatically around Newt's body, fingers splayed across the blue fabric of the magizoologist’s coat.

“I wasn't certain at first, but it really, truly, sunk in during the smuggling case, with the letter from the potioneers,” he admitted and Percy couldn't help but wonder: ‘ _that late on?’_ but Newt continued speaking and Percy realised his first thought was preemptive and wrong.

“But the way you looked when I came to, there was… something in your eyes… I've only ever seen that sort of thing from Thee and my parents,” Newt continued, closing his eyes, hand on Percy's chest bunching up the fabric. “That's when I knew for certain that I loved you and couldn't deny it anymore, not when you looked so afraid for me. Not _of_ me. _For_ me.”

Percy pressed a kiss to the crown of Newt's head.

“I really was terrified that the potioneers had poisoned you or something worse,” Percy murmured, and he felt Newt laugh quietly against him.

“I've been poisoned plenty of times, but never by the Potioneers Society,” Newt said, voice muffled by Percy's shirt. He lifted his head up and Percy saw that the magizoologist was smiling. “It certainly was an enlightening experience.”

Percy shook his head even as he smiled. “Honestly,” he said, “you're impossible.”

Percy pressed his forehead against Newt's own, their noses touching, as he stared into Newt's eyes. “I don't think you're capable of being anything else, either,” Percy breathed.

In the quiet of his office, Percy held Newt close as he stared into the magizoologist’s eyes, his heart pounding a soft rhythm of adoration that made itself known through the warmth of his gaze, the way he smiled, and the heat emanating from his body. Heat that burrowed into Newt as deeply and securely as Newt's own warmth permeated every layer Percy wore and dug its way into his core, carving itself a space within.

“We should probably leave your office before the cleaning staff show up.” Newt's voice was hushed and barely broke the gentle quiet that had settled in Percy's office.

“Yes,” Percy agreed. He continued to stare into Newt's eyes. “Would you prefer your hotel room or- my home is available?”

Newt's lips quirked. “Your home,” he said. “The bed in my room is not the most comfortable thing.”

Percy smiled.

 

* * *

 

The mountain air was sharp and biting: refreshing after so many months caged up like a common beast. Gellert found the crispness of the breeze far more favourable than any “humane” environment that had denied him access to fresh air.

At least here, those that were against him would be granted the most basic right to breathe fresh air – even if they disliked the cold temperature of it.

Looking up at the crest of the next craggy part of the mountain, Gellert’s lips lifted up into a dark smile as his mind conjured the image of his planned creation.

It would be a spectacular thing. He would ensure it lasted all time, even if Gellert himself did not.

Gesturing with his wand, Gellert watched as the solid rock began to move and churn like a rocky sea, shifting and changing according to his desire. Out of this solid rock, foundations of a vast fortress began to take shape, slowly forming in to pillars and supports for the building that he would spend the next year creating and perfecting.

Gellert tilted his head. ‘ _Maybe two years,’_ he thought, raising an eyebrow at the rocky exterior of the foundations. They would need to be further refined before he could begin anything more.

Already he felt shaky from the focus required to transmute so much raw material for, although it looked like rock, it wasn’t. Wolframite itself was a relatively common material to find in the magical world; relied upon for its denseness and hardness as well as its lack of pleochroism. Its lack of different colours depending on the light made it an excellent source for working with anything that reacted to light. However, Gellert favoured the more… physical effects of the mineral. The iron content often tended to be high but Gellert had purposefully increased the percentage of iron in the compound in order to emphasise the imperviousness aspect of the mineral.

And this building, this precious creation of his mind, would be impenetrable.

Of course, its primary purpose would be containment of those who proved a risk to his plans – Gellert had no doubts that he’d have need of internment space for those who would fail to appreciate the importance and truth of his words and actions. Already it had happened.

In New York.

True, seeing Newton had been a surprise. Not realising he was Albus’s cousin, even with his file before him in MACUSA as he masqueraded as Graves… well, that really was all on Gellert now, wasn’t it?

Still, Newton was refreshing and certainly gave him a lot to think about.

In the beginning, Gellert had considered that Albus, after all that drama about his sister, would be Gellert’s greatest opposition. Instead, Albus was largely absent, refusing to provide much more than advice and suggestions to the British Ministry whenever any of Gellert’s followers caused a ruckus.

It was a little disappointing really.

Gellert truly had expected a little bit more from Albus. The rest of Albus’s family had barely registered, even during the Great War when Theseus Scamander made a name for himself as a hero. But now…

Well, Newton Scamander had bested him.

And Gellert needed to do something about that.

Killing him – although it would solve his problems – wasn’t the answer, most especially as it would simply cause more problems and likely induce a lot more attention on to Gellert’s movements at a time when he needed the relative anonymity he had in this place.

As removed as it was from civilisation, all it would take is one person noticing him or his followers and Gellert would be forced to deal with a wealth of opposition before he was fully prepared.

Killing Newton would probably upset Albus anyway.

Though it might induce Albus to finally engage with him, Gellert truly had no desire to force Albus’s hand with the death of another family member.

Newton Scamander was an unknown variable in Gellert’s plans, he admitted that much readily. The magizoologist had come to New York at a time when Gellert had been searching for a weapon to use to advance his cause and in the space of less than a week, Newton Scamander had ruined months of hard work and delicate planning with his case of creatures and a penchant for searching out trouble.

Even if it had irritated him at the time, Gellert had to respect him for that much at least.

Almost executing him hadn’t endeared Newton to him but, honestly, at the time, he had been an issue that needed to be removed from the situation quickly and efficiently. It was fortunate he hadn’t died but still, Gellert would have at least appreciated it if the magizoologist didn’t take after Albus with his magical strength.

Strength that he hid _masterfully_.

Albus was stronger than Gellert – it had been one of the things that had attracted him to the British boy he’d met in Godric’s Hollow – and Newton was of a similar power level as his cousin. Perhaps not as skilled in some areas – public speaking certainly seemed to not be his strong suit – but whatever Newton lacked skill-wise, he more than made up for with his honed techniques and knowledge.

‘ _He would be an invaluable addition to the cause,’_ Gellert thought, and not for the first time either. Albus had lost his way after his sister, focusing his efforts on maintaining peace and educating the next generation of British wizards – as though he could influence the magical and muggle world through teaching pubescent teens how to hold a wand – but Newton was still a potential ally.

Gellert simply needed to find the right kind of leverage to use with him.

But for now, Gellert mused, he needed to focus on building the ranks and his fortress before he could turn his attention to Newton Scamander again.

Maybe in a few years, after the heat had died down a little?

One of his supporters had reported to Gellert of a group of muggles in Germany causing some discontent in the Weimar. Though Gellert had no wish to work with muggles in truth, instability in the muggle world would be of use to him in mobilising the magical against the muggles.

Perhaps he ought to see these discontented soldiers for himself?

Germany was quite lovely this time of year, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments sustain meeeee


End file.
